Monday, February 6, 2012

A Man Named Murphy...And His Law

Those who know us know that somehow, if luck is to be had by either of us, it will be bad luck. Small odds? We got 'em! 

In the last two weeks, two additional freak incidents of low percentage odds were thrown our way.  At this point, if it weren't so darn heartbreaking, someone would probably find it amusing.

First, I had my HSG to ensure my uterus looked normal and my tubes were clear. They were, in fact, perfect.  As I'm not accustomed to hearing anything of mine being normal, much less perfect, so I was happy despite the terribly uncomfortable procedure.  My doctor did not give me antibiotics for the HSG (which involves icky things like a speculum, catheter and contrast dye) but I had heard from others who had not been prescribed them either and figured all was well.  After some research, I found only 2-3% of women who have this procedure done end up with an infection. Those are some small odds!  One day after the test and I knew something wasn't right. Yup, I'm one of the 2-3%.  Super. Because the test had to be done when it in my cycle, did the infection was really coming close to affecting our timing for the month. I was worried, anxious and unhappy.

But, we had our consult with the infertility doctor coming up in 2 days. I didn't have much time or energy to dedicate to being frustrated over the infection because it was STOMPED on by the anxiety I had for this appointment. I was worried. More than worried, actually.  I was straight-up freaking out. These people have the future of our potential children in their hands. I know what walking into a fertility clinic means to most people, and I also know the generalized push to shove every woman immediately into their big money-maker, IVF.  We had already discussed our position on IVF and knew we wanted to try everything possible before going down that road and were hopeful that they wouldn't immediately tell us we have no other viable option. 

When we arrived, we were quite happy with everyone. The nurses were great, doctor was great, even their finace lady was helpful and friendly.  They gave us a tour, went over everything we needed to get started and asked if we wanted to at least get our bloodwork going that day.  Since the clinic is a full hour's drive away, we figured we'd go ahead and get the ball rolling with the blood draws.  I am typically a terrible blood-giver.  My veins (if they can even find one) suck and I have never had good luck.  Well, even this nurse proved that getting blood from stone was possible when she got me on the first stick and there wasn't even a tiny pinch of pain. My arm did give up after the first 9 vials and she had to move to my hand for the rest, but that was still major progress.  She told us no news is good news, so we would only hear from them if there was something we needed to take care of. 

They did push IVF as I expected, but it wasn't a hard-core sales pitch at least.  Her words basically were that they wanted to give us the highest possible odds of walking out with a baby in our arms and technically with a 50% success rate, IVF makes the most sense in that regard. Even with that, we felt comfortable and really taken care of. They wanted to redo my husband's sperm analysis in hopes that the first test was incorrect and getting me the meds I need by running all of the correct tests (finally!) all at once. 

The next day, I saw the now-familiar phone number come up in my phone. It wasn't an immediate feeling of dread, nor did I really think about why they would be calling.  In a cheerful voice, the nurse says "Well, we got the first of your bloodwork results back...and..." was all I had to hear before my heart sunk.  I remembered the "no news is good news" comment and knew immediately this was not going to be a pleasant call. 

Apparently, the doses of the MMR (Measles, Mumps & Rubella) vaccine I was given when I was 1 & 5, has worn off.  One of the "important" tests the clinic is required to run is to ensure every woman has an up-to-date Rubella (German measles) vaccination.  They are not allowed to continue to treat a patient until they are properly immune.  Rubella can cause serious issues while pregnant, including miscarriage and severe birth defects.  While that is all fine and good, it's also ridiculous. There were 3 cases of Rubella in the entire United States in 2009. Three.  Small odds? I think so.  Also, what are the odds of a vaccine wearing off?  They can't be big.  Another win for me.  And, even more frustrating?  It pushes back our efforts even more. I cannot even attempt to conceive for 30 days after the vaccination since it's a live-virus vaccine.

To say I'm disappointed, irritated and angry doesn't even begin to describe it. Those brick walls just keep popping up out of nowhere.  And no offense, but if I hear another person say "everything happens for a reason" or "it'll happen when it's supposed to happen", they might be looking at a fist in the face. So, now I go on Wednesday to get a pointless vaccination for something I'd never likely even be exposed to.  Oh, wait...with my luck and odds, perhaps I would have come in contact with the 1 person in the US who might have it.